


Out and in, and doubt and din

by Bitterblue



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterblue/pseuds/Bitterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Delphine is aware of before she comes is the delicate press of indeterminate fingers on her throat. Vaguely spoilery through 2x07 and steadfastly ignoring the preview for 2x08.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out and in, and doubt and din

The last thing Delphine is aware of before she comes is the delicate press of indeterminate fingers on her throat.

It begins like this:

Rachel is not Leekie. Rachel does not care about interpersonal relationships or how they affect the running of the lab. Rachel is a clone just as much as Cosima, and potentially ill just as much as Cosima is actually ill. Making Cosima better is simply a side effect of making sure Rachel will not be incapacitated, and thus the orders come: "You will continue to develop and test the stem cell serum. Dr. Cormier will continue to assist you. She is the most familiar with the research at this point and petty squabbles are irrelevant to DYAD. Until this," a small sigh, almost like emotion, though one unknown to Cosima's repertoire, " _disease_  is dealt with, it is pointless to determine how Sarah has come to be a mother. So. You understand, of course." Her smile is cold. Cosima hides a shudder inside of a cough. "I expect progress." Cosima cannot catch her breath for coughing, but she manages a glare as Rachel leaves her lab.

Delphine hovers at the edge of her vision, clearly aware that she is unwelcome and just as clearly distraught about it. When she can breathe again, Cosima twists her mouth into a scowl.

"Out." It would be more effective if her voice shook less.

The hurt blooms across Delphine's open face like a bruise. "Cosima, you  _do_  need the help and I  _do_  know our research best…" She shrugs, a helpless gesture that makes Cosima's heart ache to catch at her hands and pull her close, to push her straight out the door of the lab and slam it in her face, to do anything but sit and frown. Instead, she watches Delphine tuck her hair nervously behind her ear.

"I can't work with you here, Delphine."

Something inside of Delphine seems to break as she straightens, using her full height advantage and crossing her arms across her chest. "Well, that's too bad. You're going to have to figure it out, because Rachel gave us both orders."

"Oh, so you're taking her side now? I should have guessed. It's always going to be them, isn't it?" To her credit, Delphine refuses the bait, turning away to calibrate machines that have gone untouched since the last time Cosima kicked her out, two days before.

It makes Cosima seethe.

The day wears on in tense silence, Scott mercifully gone to do something somewhere else. Delphine can't seem to figure out how she feels about the argument, her posture shifting between apologetic to frustrated to angry and back again with every less than covert glance at Cosima. They get nothing done. Cosima can't make any sense of the reports she is supposed to be reading, methodically scrolling through and finding nothing has made it beyond her eyelids and into her brain. All she can do is watch Delphine watch her.

It is late afternoon, the light golden and turning Delphine into some sort of goddess figure backlit by high windows, when she can no longer stand the tension. Before either of them can protest (and a not so small part of Cosima does want to protest), she is pushing at Delphine's shoulder roughly, turning her body just where she wants it, and kissing her hard, all teeth and tongue. There is a breathless pause of a moment where she thinks Delphine will push her away, will pull back with apologies on her lips and in her eyes, will tell her it's okay even as she walks to the door; then Delphine is kissing her back, groaning into her mouth.

"This is not working." Rachel's voice is smooth, low, chiding. Cosima rips herself apart from Delphine, both breathing heavily. The barest hint of a smile plays at Rachel's lips. "You've got blood on her, Cosima. How rude." Delphine reaches up to touch her lips, identical pairs of eyes following her hand. Blood is smeared across her mouth. Neither could guess which it belongs to.

"It was an accident," Delphine offers, her voice small.

"The kiss? Or the blood?" Rachel's smile broadens, a predator's smile, watching the blonde blush deeply. "It seems I cannot leave the pair of you unsupervised." She tilts her head, considering them. "Lick the blood from her mouth, Cosima."

Whatever Cosima had been expecting (more DYAD interference in her lab, more check-ins with Rachel, more people crowding her space), this is not it. She shakes her head, blinking. "Excuse me?"

"Do not make me repeat myself. You won't like it."

Delphine reaches up, tangling their fingers together, and tugs on her hand. She smiles softly, relaxing into unspoken apologies again. Cosima would rather she didn't. It's hard to be angry at Delphine when she is like this, a calculated move she cannot resist even though she knows it's bullshit. Her face says,  _what's one more kiss?_  and  _please, I want it_  and  _please,_ you _want it_.

She is gentler this time, hands steady on Delphine's shoulders as she leans in and carefully flicks her tongue again and again across bruised, bloodied lips. She can hear Rachel step closer, her shoes echoing in the high ceilings.

Surprisingly warm fingers close around her shoulder, yanking her back. "Enough." Cosima shakes her head a little, frowning again. She is unfamiliar with the rules of this game. Twisting, she tries to loosen Rachel's grip. Rachel raises her eyebrows, and then, still holding Cosima firmly in place, leans in and kisses Delphine. It takes a moment, and then Delphine is kissing her back, pliant and soft under Rachel's mouth.

"Hey! What the  _fuck_."

Rachel doesn't end the kiss right away, but she does eventually pull back. Delphine is blushing, pupils blown wide, panting. Cosima has never seen her like this and not been the cause. She doesn't like it. Rachel looks nearly as composed as usual, eyebrows raised.

"She isn't yours, I don't see what the problem is." Cosima opens her mouth to answer and then abruptly shuts it again. "I can take what's mine when I like."

"Excuse me? We aren't property."  _She isn't yours_  stings like a papercut to her heart.

"Yes. You are." Her lips are on Cosima's, now. It should be strange, and maybe it is, except that it's less strange because it's Rachel and more because Cosima finds herself kissing back, biting and bruising as good as she gets. It is the feel of Delphine touching her lower back, fingers sliding under the fabric of her shirt and splaying there that jolts her back to reality, wrenching away and wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You'll hurt my feelings like that, Cosima."

"What, all two of them? What do you think you're  _doing_?"

Rachel slides her hand up Cosima's throat, pressing lightly against her trachea. Not enough to stop her breathing. Just enough to make her uncomfortable. "I told you already. I thought you were clever. Such a shame to prove me wrong. Undress Dr. Cormier, then yourself." Her hand falls away as she steps back to give Cosima room. For half a second, she is torn between bolting from the room and doing exactly what she is told.

The latter wins. She doesn't think about it.

Delphine watches her as she undoes buttons and zips, fingers careful and light. She moves, helping to slide out of her clothes, and then leans against the desk. She has always had a sort of nonchalant gracefulness naked that Cosima deeply envies, particularly as she stumbles her way out of heels and jeans. She raises her chin, meeting Rachel's eyes, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You are both very stupid if you think I will let anything happen to this lab equipment. You asked for a sofa. Sit on it."

Cosima, half a step closer, sits first, increasingly uneasy again. Delphine is radiant, pressing a sweet kiss to her mouth before sitting next to her. Cosima wonders that she hasn't spoken in what feels like ages, except in her defense.

She definitely does not think about that.

Rachel is on them in an instant. No. On Delphine, her hands sharp and her teeth biting, tasting her throat, her collarbones, her breasts. Cosima watches as she arches her back into her clone's violent mouth, and wonders if this is what hate feels like. Delphine's body rocks, shuddering, a shakey moan escaping her mouth as Rachel shoves two fingers inside of her without warning. The only thing Cosma can think to do is kiss her, swallow that noise, swallow the horrible feeling at the base of her spine that this is her fault. Delphine's mouth is hot, the angle bad so that their teeth clack together. They both groan. Half pressed into her body, Cosima can feel every thrust of Rachel's hand as it ripples through the rest of Delphine.

"Good," Rachel is practically purring. Cosima can't recall her own voice ever sounding quite like that. "Good. Now touch her skin. Touch her throat, Cosima."

Touching Delphine's skin has never been the problem. Her fingers find well-known paths, dips and peaks of bone beneath pale, freckled skin. She slides her hand down Delphine's throat, remembering the feel of her hands when they first properly kissed.

"Good. And press. Just a little. You can't breathe. Why should she?"

She's fairly sure that Rachel is the evil part of herself, split off and made into something nearly human. She presses her fingers down, light, watching Delphine's eyes flutter closed with a whimper. Release. Another whimper.

"Good. Again."

It is easy, laughably easy, to wrap her fingers around Delphine's throat, to press, to hold. Rachel must be doing something good with her hand, because it is easy to watch Delphine's orgasm unfold beneath her. Delphine is usually loud, swearing and groaning and desperately pretty. This is no less pretty for its silence.

All Cosima can think as she meets Delphine's eyes, fingers still on her throat, is,  _good. Again_.


End file.
